


The Journey Home

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim comes out to his ex-wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Journey Home

 

Disclaimers: jim, blair, simon, carolyn and the

rest of the crew are the property of paramount and/or pet fly. no money

has changed hands, no copyright infringement intended.

Notes: jim-angst herein. adult themes, mild bad language, no sex. this scene was haunting me for weeks until it actually forced my fingers to the keyboard, and voila! my first piece of fanfic. many, many thanks to patient and courageous beta readers wolfling and debbie who put up with a newbie fanfic writer! 

Summary: jim comes out to his ex-wife. 

Warnings: none 

* * => emphasis // // => character thoughts 

~~~

 

The Journey Home  


by

boyd

 

Jim Ellison shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic seat. He wished he were back home, at the dentist, hell, even doing paperwork--anywhere else but in a crowded, noisy airport awaiting this particular flight to San Francisco. True to form, his flannel-clad partner restlessly paced the aisle, doggedly rehashing their earlier discussion. 

"Jim, look. There's still time for me to get a ticket on the shuttle. I could reschedule my review sessions and fly out late this afternoon. Or meet you there tomorrow morning..." 

"Thanks, Chief, but no." 

"C'mon Jim," Blair paused, running a hand through his hair, "I wouldn't have to show up with you or anything, if that's what you're worried about. I could just wait in the car, or the hotel, hang out at a cafe, whatever. You know, just be there, for moral support." 

Jim sighed, "Sandburg, I need to do this myself, okay? I really appreciate your willingness to come with me, but I've got to take care of this on my own." 

Try as he might, Jim simply couldn't convince Blair that he needed to make this trip alone. Perhaps it *was* irrational. After all, he'd spent most of his adult life alone, his brief marriage to Carolyn and partnership with Blair not withstanding. Having Blair waiting nearby to comfort him didn't negate any of the things he'd achieved on his own, right? Hell, he'd survived eighteen months in exile, carried out his mission and still walked away sane. Maybe it was just that damning echo of his father in his head: 'A man stands alone, Jimmy'. An echo that forced him to prove, once again, that James J. Ellison could manage his own affairs, own up to his past mistakes, face his commanding officer, admit his guilt and take the punishment. Like a man. 

"Jim, I know I've asked you this before...But are you *sure* you know what you're doing here by going to talk to Carolyn about your new 'status'...?" 

"*Yes*, Blair..." 

"...Because, I think maybe you're *way* underestimating the significance of this event. I mean, this could be major. Under the *best* of circumstances the results can be unpredictable. But she's your *ex-wife*!" Blair stopped pacing and leaned forward earnestly, placing his hands on Jim's shoulders. "She'll go non-linear! We're talking major opportunity for some serious freaking out, big guy..." 

Jim batted his hands away, irritably, "Stop being so melodramatic, Sandburg. I'm well aware of the possibilites. I am not being naive." 

Unfortunately, Blair's colorful analysis was, as usual, correct. Despite the love they had shared, their more-or-less amicable divorce and cordial working relationship, Jim had no particular illusions about just how unpleasant his 'revelation' and the subsequent 'discussion' with his ex-wife was likely be. 'Non-linear' didn't begin to describe it. Dirty and dangerous covert ops jobs in unnamed South American countries inspired less terror than facing the 'Wrath of Plummer'. Jesus, but the woman's tongue could flay flesh from bone when she was pissed. Blair at least fought fair--most of the time anyway--and forbore to use his verbal skills to rip him to shreds. Carolyn, however, had no such compunctions. Jim grimaced remembering all too well the gaping wounds left after some of their more spectacular fights. He quickly schooled his face to impassivity, but Sandburg, as usual, wasn't fooled. 

"Jim, this is no time for you to go all stoic and military on me," Blair threw up his hands in disgust. "I can see that jaw muscle jumping! You've really got to stay *present* here, man. Be calm, in touch with how you feel about the situation, otherwise this whole thing could blow up in your face." Blair paused for a much needed breath. "I really think that you need some backup here. You know, a friendly face and all that." 

"Sandburg...", Jim began, warningly. 

"At the very least," Blair whispered suggestively, moving closer, "afterwards, we could head back to the hotel for some really hot, mind blowing sex and take your mind off your 'ex' troubles..." His voice trailed off as he resumed pacing with a distinct wiggle to his hips. 

Jim cast his eyes skyward. Leave it to Sandburg to abandon logic and go with raw biology when losing an argument. "Chief, sit *down*. You're driving me crazy with your pacing. And keep your voice down!" 

"I'm practically whispering here, man. People are starting to think I'm talking to myself." Blair paused and blinked owlishly at Jim over the rims of his glasses, "Turn down the dials, Jim, otherwise you're going to end up with a migraine on top of that bad case of TMJ you've already got going." 

"They *are* turned down, dammit." Jim shook his head in frustration, "Trust me here, Sandburg. I know what I'm doing. I know you don't understand why I want to do this alone, but I just *have* to." 

"Jim. I understand why you need to *tell* her alone. I just don't see why you have to do this without backup. I don't have to actually *be* there. It's not like I don't know what you're going through..." 

"You got an ex-wife I don't know about, Sandburg?" 

His partner heaved an exasperated sigh, "Of course not! You know *exactly* what I mean..." punctuating his words with a jab at Jim's chest. 

Fed up with the pacing and the topic, Jim reached out and grabbed the nearest wrist, "Blair. This discussion is over. You're not going with me. Now. Sit. Down." Defeated, Blair flopped down, crossed his arms and fidgeted silently. 

Jim sighed and rubbed his aching eyes. Who was he kidding? Blair could probably see right through every one of his pathetic excuses and rationalizations. If he were honest with himself, he'd admit that he needed to talk to Carolyn alone to prove to that he could live without Blair. To prove that he could live with this annihilating knowledge about himself, make peace with this newly uncovered identity and control his senses without the support of his partner. Because, though Jim was now convinced that Blair would never willingly leave him, he was more certain than ever that one day his lover would be taken from him. A bullet. Car accident. Cancer. Whatever. One day, the Fates would decide that Jim Ellison had received more than his fair share of success and happiness and he'd learn once again what it was like to live with an empty heart and the constant taste of ashes. 

Jim roused from his morbid thoughts when the airline announced the boarding of his flight. "Okay, Chief, that's me," he said heavily, grabbing jacket and overnight bag from the neighboring chair. Blair silently rose and took his hand, squeezing gently, expressing love and concern the only way possible in such a public place, "Jim? Call me, okay?" 

"I will, Chief." Jim gazed into his partner's worried eyes, and smiled slightly, wishing he could accept the gift of support that Blair offered so easily, "I'll miss you." Turning, he walked swiftly towards the gate, but not before he heard his Guide's response, sentinel-soft, "I love you too, Jim." 

~~~

Jim parked the rental several blocks away from the fashionable Nob Hill address Carolyn had given him. The china blue sky was dotted with clouds and a bright April sun shone down upon streets thronged with tourists and residents taking advantage of the pleasant Saturday afternoon. He tried to use the walk to gather his thoughts, rehearse what he wanted to say, but had no more luck now than he had on the plane. He found himself at the carved wooden door far too quickly. 

The door opened at his second knock. "Yes? May I help you?" A tall, elegant man--Jim guessed him to be in his early fifties--stood in the doorway, dressed in casually expensive sweater and slacks. An angora-wool blend, by their smell. Jim ruthlessly suppressed a sneeze. 

"Hi. I'm Jim Ellison. I'm here to see Carolyn Plummer." 

"Ah yes, the 'ex'," the graying man smiled thinly. "Come on in. I'm Peter Westhaven, by the way." On the way from the tasteful foyer to the equally tasteful sitting room, Westhaven took the opportunity to size Jim up. Judging by his smug smile, Jim clearly came up short and he bristled instinctively. "Please have a seat. Carolyn's in the library. Would you like something to drink? Some coffee? Espresso perhaps?" 

"Sure. Coffee is fine," Jim forced himself to ignore the annoying aura of smugness that clung to the man like the smell of old socks as he left the room. Out of habit, he scanned the room, noting first its impressive size, then the expensive wood paneling, imported leather couches, mahogany tables and polished wooden floors covered with antique oriental carpets. A ship's clock on the green marble mantelpiece chimed the half-hour. The lemon-scented furniture polish clashed with the cloying aroma of fresh flowers arranged in several cut-crystal bowls throughout the room, assaulting his nose. He gave into the urge to sneeze. At least the colors were subdued. 

The room reminded him uncomfortably of his childhood home...his father's house. Expensive, careful artifice. The placement of each object d'art carefully crafted to make a statement--to impress. He wondered what sort of "vibes" his Guide would pick up in this room and what wry comments about conspicuous consumption he'd make. 

Blair always took such care to arrange the loft, harmonizing the sights, scents and sounds with Jim's sensitive physiology. Awash in a sickeningly familiar sea of contrived opulence, Jim was suddenly homesick for their clean, spare loft, bare of expensive 'statements', but filled with laughter and love. 

~~~

"Jimmy. How nice to see you again. How was your flight?" Jim rose giving Carolyn a brief hug and kiss as she entered the room. 

"Uh, fine. Hi Carolyn. You look wonderful." And she did. Her hair was longer, with tasteful reddish highlights and, like Peter, she wore an angora sweater, accented with understated gold jewelry. Apparently, 'expensive casual' was the order of the day on Nob Hill. Jim refused to feel out of place in his jeans, sweater and worn leather jacket. 'Cheap casual' was much easier on the budget when wrestling criminals to the pavement. Or, he thought wryly, when tackling a certain amorous Guide to the loft floor. 

"Thanks, so do you," she said, sitting opposite him on one of the aromatic leather couches. "And how is Simon, and Brown and everyone? I assume everyone's alright? I haven't had a chance to talk to the rest of the crew in a while. My new duties have been keeping me really busy." 

"Everyone's fine. I was happy when I heard about your promotion. You certainly deserved it." 

"Well thanks. It was a long time coming. I really appreciated the flowers you sent," she said softly. 

"You're very welcome." 

"Did you have any trouble finding us? The streets can get a bit confusing around here." 

Jim shrugged, "No, no problem at all. Just took a while to find a place to park. Very nice place you have here, by the way." 

"Actually, it's Peter's--my fiance. He's a partner with Bain, a management consultancy here in the City." Carolyn held up her left hand to display her engagement ring. Princess-cut. Two carats at least. "We just got engaged last weekend." 

Fiance. So that explained Westhaven's attitude. Rugged good-looks aside, he didn't seem like Carolyn's type. If nothing else, he seemed a bit too old, out of shape. But, after all, what did he really know about Carolyn anymore? The past three years could have changed her as much as they had changed him. Westhaven had a good thing and he knew it. Carolyn was smart and attractive. He'd probably give her the moon if she asked. Jim's throat ached and he swallowed carefully around the painful lump. He'd once offered her the moon, too. Offered her everything that he'd thought he was and could be. But it hadn't been nearly enough. For her, or for him. 

"So. I guess congratulations are in order. When's the wedding?" 

"Next September," Westhaven said, returning with a silver tray of coffee and biscuits. "We're getting married at Grace Cathedral. They're usually booked up years in advance. I had to pull a few strings to get us in." 

"Ah. I'm sure that it will be beautiful," Jim commented neutrally. Westhaven's self-satisfied expression implied that Jim should be impressed. Having grown up around wealth, he knew all too well what a well-placed bribe could accomplish. What on earth did Carolyn *see* in this pompous asshole? Perhaps it was his obvious 'upward mobility'. It had always rankled her that he hadn't been as interested in promotions as he 'should' be and that he had flatly refused to name drop, to capitalize on his father's business connections. 

In that respect, his relationship with Blair was a refreshing change. His partner was unfailingly accepting and encouraging, only ever ragging him about one thing. He could almost hear Blair's exasperated voice, '*Repression* thy name is Ellison!'. Sandburg had a point, though. If he'd been honest with himself years ago, trusted his instincts, hadn't hidden his desires, knowledge of his very self away under dusty layers of denial and macho posturing, he wouldn't be sitting here now, about to hurt one of the few people he'd ever allowed close. 

~~~

After the coffee was served, Westhaven spent a tedious half-hour detailing his corporate conquests, over-explaining the concepts of buy-outs and restructuring // Does he *really* think I'm an ignorant barbarian? // and possessively fondling Carolyn's hand. Before Jim's eyes could completely glaze over, Carolyn placed her cup on the tray and leaned forward, "So Jimmy. I'm sure that you didn't fly 700 miles just to chat. You sounded as if it were urgent on the phone. What's going on?" 

Jim toyed with the delicate Augarten coffee cup. Absently priced it at about $125. He'd spent the better part of a summer paying off one such set after ignoring his father's 'No Basketball in the House' edict. 

"Uh Carolyn, I don't mean to be rude, but is there someplace where we could talk privately?" 

"*Peter* and I don't have any secrets between us." Jim didn't need enhanced hearing to detect the old bitterness in her voice. She'd never truly been comfortable with his enforced silence about his Army years or with his desire for privacy. 

"Still, what I have to say, I'd rather speak to just you about it. Alone." Jim glanced pointedly at her fiance. 

Surprisingly, Westhaven took the hint, "Well, I've got to head into work and take care of a few things before my trip to Chicago on Monday." He stood and moved for the doorway. "It was nice talking to you, Jim, " he called over his shoulder. 

"Likewise." Jim could only hope that his insincerity wasn't too obvious. 

~~~

"So. What's this all about Jimmy?" Carolyn asked. "What do you have to say to me that's so private?" 

Jim rose and went to stand before the window, mouth suddenly dry, heart pounding. He jammed his hands in his pockets to still their trembling. He hated emotional confrontations with Carolyn. With anyone. He'd never learned to navigate these minefields. Every aspect of his training, from childhood to the military to police work had taught him to disconnect from his emotions. Observe them and if necessary for the mission, ruthlessly suppress them. He could face fire-fights, hand-to-hand combat, reconnaissance in hostile territory with barely a flutter of fear in his belly. But nothing scared him half so much as this. No amount of kevlar or weaponry could deflect a vicious stab from someone who knew your every weakness. He'd at least ceased pretending that the wounds didn't hurt, bleed. Score one for Sandburg's latest 'Admit to Your Feelings' campaign. 

"Well. Since you've been gone, a few things have happened," he spoke haltingly. "What I mean to say is that I've found out a few things about myself and, well, I rather that you heard about them from me, than from someone else." The words sounded stilted and uncertain to his own ears. 

"Things? What things?" When he didn't respond immediately, Carolyn's voice rose in alarm. "Jim, what are you trying to tell me here? You're not, uh--sick--or something, are you?" Her face grew pale. 

"What? Oh, no. Nothing like that." Why the hell did this have to be so difficult? Sandburg *had* warned him. Perhaps he should have waited until he was more comfortable with the 'New-and-Improved Jim Ellison'. But, with each passing day, the likelihood of discovery grew, and he felt that he owed it to her, out of respect for the love they had once shared, for her to hear it from him. Not as a juicy tidbit in some gossip-laden conversation. He could hear it now, 'Guess what, Carolyn? I just found out that your macho, all-American commando ex-husband is fucking a man!' 

"Well, then, what?" Carolyn came up beside him and placed her hand on his arm. Her engagement ring flashed in the sunlight. "You have Peter leave the room and now you won't say anything. I know that you were always the 'strong silent type' Jimmy, but you're really staring to worry me here." 

"Carolyn, there is no easy way to tell you this, but I thought that you should know, should hear it from me." Jim squared his shoulders and turned to face her. "I'm in a relationship with a man." 

Jim had never seen quite that stunned, open-mouthed expression on his ex-wife's exquisite face. She used to claim that he was unfailingly predictable. 'A person could set his watch by you, Ellison.' Obviously she'd have to revise that statement. 

"What? What did you just say?" 

"I'm in a relationship with a man, Carolyn." With the words now out in the open, his voice and hands stopped shaking. He wasn't ashamed of his love for Blair, but nevertheless, it was still difficult to reconcile his feelings and their relationship with his self-image--the image of the man he'd thought he was for nearly forty years. 

"You're in a relationship. With a man," she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. "I assume that this isn't a joke?" 

"No. It's not a joke." 

She ran long fingers through her hair in agitation, brown eyes flashing, "Are you saying that you're gay, Jimmy? Are you coming out to me here? Is that what's going on?" 

"Yes, Carolyn. That's exactly what I'm saying and that's exactly what's going on here." 

Lips pressed tightly together, Carolyn crossed her arms and turned away from him. "And you, what? Just neglected to mention this little detail about yourself before we got married?" Her voice was sharp, brittle. 

Jim steeled himself for the inevitable. "I didn't exactly know then, myself." 

"You didn't know," she said flatly, pacing in front of the window. "You didn't know," she repeated. "Am I to believe that something this significant, this important, you just didn't know about?" Jim took a step backwards, preparing for the impending storm. 

Carolyn whipped around and grabbed his arm, snarling, "How the *hell* did you Not. Know. This. About. Yourself?" 

// Damn good question, Carolyn dear. I think it's called 'repression'. My partner tells me I'm really good at it.// "Look, Carolyn..." Jim struggled for calm, falling back on Blair's earlier advice. Having both of them upset and yelling wouldn't improve the situation. "...I didn't exactly grow up in the most enlightened of households..." 

"To *hell* with your upbringing! All those years in the military, Jim. All those years, all those men, and you never *felt* something? It never occurred to you that you were--were--This Way?" 

// Focus, Ellison, focus. Keep to the mission: initiate contact, divulge information and depart. No complications.// "No, I didn't. Well, not exactly anyway." 

"What do you mean 'not exactly'? You're being awfully damned vague about this whole thing. Either you knew or you didn't. It's just that simple." 

// Actually, // he thought miserably // it's not 'just that simple'. It's so far beyond 'that simple' you can't possibly imagine.// "I meant that it had occurred to me once or twice. I suspected, okay? I'd wondered about it, I guess. I just didn't figure it all out at once." 

Hands on her hips, Carolyn glared at him in disbelief. 

Jaw and fists clenched, Jim ground out, "Carolyn! I didn't just get up one morning and think, 'Hmm. I've got nothing better to do today, I think I'll question my sexuality!'" // And screw up my life, piss off my ex-wife // "I guess I tried not think too hard about it," he slowly admitted, looking away. 

"You tried not to think about it," she slammed her hand down on the window sill. "Typical! That was always your problem, Jimmy!" she snapped, "You know a hundred different ways to kill a man with your bare hands, but you never could take an honest look at yourself in the mirror!" 

Great. One of Blair's less flattering observations spoken in Carolyn's betrayed, bitter voice. Jim felt a familiar wave of nausea. She always did know just where to stick the knife. 

"Carolyn, I was in the *army* for godsakes! Not exactly the most forgiving and supportive of environments. They don't exactly encourage introspection. I was a *commanding officer*. How could I take such a risk, lose the respect of my subordinates, maybe end my entire career on the basis of something that I only *suspected* might be true?" 

"You weren't in the army when we met, Jimmy. You were a Vice cop. All that role-playing, Jim. Remember, I know how it works. All those pretty boys you brought in. All you had to do was snap your fingers and they'd practically come running. You were so damn *good* at it! We all figured, 'Hey, Jim would make a great actor! Probably all that covert-ops *spy* stuff.' But it wasn't all an act, was it Jimmy?" 

He honestly had no idea how to respond. There was so much truth mixed in with her wild assumptions that he couldn't begin to unravel it all. And there was no hope that she would let him explain. She definitely wasn't Blair, to wait patiently while he struggled to match words to his seething thoughts and emotions. It didn't matter anyway. He'd probably already destroyed any joyful memory she might have had about their marriage. 

"So, now it all makes sense," She continued into his silence. "The excuses. The silences. Turning away after we made love. Everything! I was just *camouflage*, wasn't I? It was all just a lie." 

"No, Carolyn. My love for you was *never* a lie. You have to believe that!" 

"How can you say that? After you just told me that you're sleeping with a man?" she cried. 

Jim counted to ten. Then to twenty. He felt lost, weak-kneed, cast adrift. A cold, sick feeling settled in his stomach. "Don't you remember in the beginning?" he pleaded softly, "We had lots of good times. Don't you remember?" She stared at him fiercely, eyes implacably hard. He shook his head sadly, "It *truly* wasn't a lie. I didn't lie to you." 

"That kiss. At the restaurant. What was *that*, then? That wasn't some last ditch effort to prove to yourself that you were straight?" She turned away, covering her eyes, not quite disguising the tears. "I don't know, Jimmy," she said, shaking her head slowly, "Perhaps one day I'll be okay with all this. But, for now, I think that I'm going to need some time to figure it all out." Carolyn sank down on one of the leather sofas and drew a heavily embroidered pillow into her lap, fingers clutching its gold tassel. 

The rhythmic ticking of the clock filled the long tense silence. Jim walked slowly across the room and leaned against the mantle. Hands in his pockets, he gazed at the beautiful profile of his ex-wife. Tears slid down her cheeks, sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Tears. And like him, she never cried. He'd run out of words and his thoughts chased themselves around in circles. Sighing in defeat, he closed his eyes and braced for the next round. 

~~~

"So. Who is it, Jim?" she finally asked quietly. "This man you mentioned. Do I know him?" 

"Yes. You've met him." 

"It's your *partner* right?" Her tone made it a slight epithet. "Sandburg. Your long-haired, cop-wanna-be partner." She turned to look at him, wiping her cheeks, "Am I right?" 

Honesty warred with mild outrage at her characterization of his best friend. "Yes. I'm involved with Blair." 

"He seduced you, didn't he? Came up with some New-Age mumbo jumbo about soul-mates and all people being bisexual or something, right?" 

"No," he sighed. "It wasn't like that at all." There was no way he could explain their intricate and intimate involvement in one another's lives. No way to explain the complex web of interdependence that characterized their roles and abilities as Sentinel and Shaman. No, Blair hadn't seduced him. Only encouraged him to share himself. Helped him unlock some of memory's doors and finally recognize and accept the incredible treasure who had chosen to share his life. 

"I'm surprised that they allow him to continue to ride with you. It's against departmental policy." 

"They don't know." 

"What?" She looked up, surprised. 

"They don't know yet. No one knows about it. You're the first person I've told." 

The clock chimed the hour into the silence. Over two hours had passed. Jim felt exhausted. 

Carolyn was still for a long time, staring at her hands clasped loosely in her lap. "I don't quite know what to think about that, Jimmy. I thought you would have told Simon first. He's your best friend." 

Silently, Jim moved to sit beside her on the couch. He could see the slight trembling of her hands. 

"I wanted you to hear it from me, Caro. I know you don't believe me, but I really did love you. I really wanted our marriage to work. In the end, I guess we just weren't right for each other." 

"No kidding, " she snorted faintly. "I wasn't a short, long-haired, hyperactive *male* academic." 

"You never really liked Blair, did you?" Jim asked curiously. 

"No," she sighed, "I didn't. But I didn't *dislike* him, either. I guess I was jealous. You let him into your life so easily. He never had to work for it, like I did. You just opened up the door, and he walked right in. But, I guess we've pretty much established that I wasn't your type." 

"No, Caro, you were very *much* my type. Don't you remember? Italy? Our honeymoon? That trip to Cozumel? Dinners at Fusilli's and late night dancing and champagne?" 

"Yes. I remember. *Very* well." She smiled slowly. "I guess then this technically makes you 'bisexual'?" 

Jim shrugged, "I guess so." 

There was another long silence, more companionable than the last. 

"Does he treat you well, Jimmy?" she finally asked, taking one of his hands, her eyes surprisingly warm with concern. "I know that things didn't work out with us. For a variety of reasons. But I *would* like to see you happy." 

"Blair and I...well, things with Blair are just great. The past six months have been--amazing. Difficult but amazing." Jim smiled, tense muscles unclenching for the first time since he'd left Cascade. "I'm happy, Carolyn. Scared to death, but very happy." 

She smiled wryly, squeezing his hand lightly, "I can't imagine." 

"And what about you and Westhaven? You never so much as mentioned his name in any of your emails and now, here you are--engaged!" he tapped her ring. "To a management consultant of all things!" 

"It all happened rather quickly. We met at a party and things just seemed to fall into place. And yes, I know you probably think he's not 'my type'. But, I'm very happy, too." 

"After all this, Caro, I think we should both give up trying to figure out each other's 'types'." 

"Deal," she chuckled weakly. "Look Jim," she continued seriously, grasping both his hands, "I understand if you want to keep all this private. I won't mention anything about this unless you want me to." 

"Thanks, Carolyn," he said in surprise. 

"What? Did you think I was going to shout it from the roof tops or something?" 

"No. I guess I wasn't really sure what you'd do, how you'd feel." 

"Well, I'm not too sure either, right now," she said, blinking fresh tears away. "But, if you want to keep this confidential, that's okay with me." 

"I think that would be best for now. We still haven't quite decided what to do about our working together or how it might affect Blair's teaching position at Rainier. He finished his Ph.D. last year, did I tell you that?" 

Carolyn shook her head, "No. Please send him my congratulations." 

"I will, " Jim smiled. "Anyway, we're both still trying to find our way here, decide what we're going to do about everything." 

"I understand." 

Jim contemplated their clasped hands for a moment. How strange that, for once, after the violent storm of emotions, he didn't feel lacerated or devastated. He'd somehow come through the minefield more or less unscathed; bleeding a bit, but no missing limbs. His heart was still intact and perhaps slightly more whole than before. 

"Well," he rose, releasing her hands, "I should head back to the airport. I should be able to catch the 7:00 pm flight." 

"Oh!" she stood quickly, "I thought you were going to leave in the morning. I made dinner reservations at Chez Panisse." 

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass. I doubt you'd have a very enjoyable evening anyway, watching Peter and I spar with each other." He'd just cancel his hotel reservation and get on an earlier shuttle, surprise Blair. A choice between surviving a tense, awkward evening with Westhaven or enjoying a late night with Blair was no choice at all. 

"Yes, it could be a bit awkward. I don't think Peter likes you very much." 

"I hadn't noticed," Jim deadpanned. 

Carolyn chuckled, then sobered quickly, "Look, Jim. I'm really sorry I got so upset earlier. I mean, I didn't handle it well. This all came as such a shock." 

Jim shrugged, "Believe me, I understand. I've really had to completely realign my thinking in the last six months. It hasn't been easy. I hadn't expected you to be *this* okay with it all." 

"Oh, I'll probably curl up in the corner and cry after you leave," she smiled weakly, "But, for right now, I want you to know that I want you to be happy. And if being with Blair will do that, then, well, I'll just have to adjust my thinking and wish you both the best." 

Jim was, quite frankly stunned. Of all the scenarios he'd imagined, Carolyn's offer of support had never entered his mind. His motto had always been, 'Expect the worst.' Perhaps Sandburg had the right idea: 'Plan for the worst but expect the best.' 

Pensively, she turned away and looked at her feet, "I can't help wondering sometimes though, if we'd just done things differently, worked harder...if I'd been less angry, not so quick to judge, perhaps we could have made it work..." 

"Carolyn, I think we both need to move forward. Stop blaming ourselves and each other. Maybe we could have tried harder, maybe I never would have discovered all this about myself, or perhaps we were never truly meant to be. In the end, our marriage didn't work out, but, I can assure you, it wasn't because I didn't love you." 

"Jim!" Carolyn smiled in amazement, "You just keep surprising me here." 

"Yeah, well, I guess Sandburg's New Age attitude is rubbing off on me." 

"Well, I for one, like the change." 

Jim smiled what felt like his first genuine smile in ages, "Thanks. I think I like it too." 

~~~

On the drive to the airport, Jim felt a strange sense of completion and yet embarkation. As if by just arriving home, he'd actually taken a step along a new path, one promising companionship and love. 

Maybe he did deserve a little happiness. Perhaps the Fates would be kind this time around and he and Blair could grow old together, have time to fully understand the complexity and potential of their roles as Sentinel and Shaman. Spend their lives exploring this new realm of love and passion. 

He smiled as a pleasant warmth grew in his chest and spread outward through limbs that tingled with anticipation. 

~~~

Blair met him at the gate, a peculiar mix of subdued but barely contained concern, curiosity and bounce. By the time they got to the truck, he simply couldn't restrain himself, "So, big guy, how'd it go? Everything okay? You still all in one piece?" 

Jim smiled broadly as he threw his bag in the back, "Fine, Sandburg. Everything went just fine." Before Blair could respond, Jim wrapped Blair in his arms, muffling his squeak of surprise. Burying his face in the chestnut silk of his lover's hair, he released a heartfelt sigh of contentment, for once not caring who might see, comment or criticize. As Blair's arms tightened around him, he thought of the sadness, fear and anger that had led him to this wondrous place. The years of denial, shame, dire hours spent in terrible places, fighting enemies within and without. The warmth in his chest grew as Blair's steady heartbeat rocked him and the rich, earthy scent of his lover filled him with the awareness of homecoming. 

Glancing up, Jim Ellison offered a brief prayer to the glittering stars overhead. Perhaps the Fates would, indeed, be kind. 

~~~

Finis. 


End file.
